


Children in the Abstract

by CopperBreeches



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crack, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-25
Updated: 2012-07-25
Packaged: 2017-11-10 17:43:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/468971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CopperBreeches/pseuds/CopperBreeches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John is slightly concerned by Sherlock's thoughts of hypothetical children.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Children in the Abstract

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't kidfic although children are talked about.

John got in from shopping hoping for a nice quiet night in. Not that life with Sherlock was quiet but with any luck he would have at least an hour without Sherlock sulking he had no case and resorting to shooting something, or worse. There was a lot he could do in that hour, including distracting Sherlock through less chaste means than boardgames. 

However, as he got in he noticed Sherlock sitting typing at the table and he realised perhaps a quiet night in wasn't meant to be. 

He sighed and put the shopping bags down in the kitchen before he stood next Sherlock who seemed fixated on the screen in front of him. “Sherlock, what are you doing with my laptop?”

“Conducting an experiment, John,” Sherlock replied, not bothering to look up. 

“And you couldn't use your own laptop for that?”

“Not when the experiment involves you and I need the photographs stored your hard drive.”

Now John was starting to worry. He didn't have incriminating photographs on his laptop, just ones of him, Sherlock, a few from his army days, a couple of Greg, Mrs Hudson, Molly and even a rare one of Mycroft. What on earth did Sherlock want with them? 

“Me? How does it involve me? What photographs?” He came closer to get a better look at the screen. He wasn't sure what he was seeing. It was a person but not someone he recognised, even though they were familiar. “Sherlock, who is that?”

“That John is what our hypothetical future offspring might look like.”

“You've used one of those picture morphing sites, haven't you?” John asked. He'd never used them himself but spend enough time on the internet and eventually you stumble across people morphing celebrities faces together. 

“Yes and clearly our gene pools would complement each other.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Donovan and her comments at the end of the cycling stalker case,” Sherlock said, as if that explained everything. 

John remembered the case but not the comment. “What does that have to do with someone who followed a teacher on a bike?”

“Do you not remember, John? Anderson said if ever we were to have children they would probably turn out to be stalkers due to my genetic influence.”

John remembered Anderson had made some comment along the lines of 'if you two ever had kids we'd probably be arresting them for stalking.' He'd probably made the comment because the stalker they had arrested was the son of a stalker. But Sherlock, being Sherlock, he'd had to interpret it differently. 

“You do know we can't have children, don't you? Someone did give you the birds and bees talk?”

Sherlock looked slightly offended. “Yes, Mycroft told me when I was four. And, no, it did not traumatise to never have sex again.”

John smiled.“Obviously because then I'd have to ask you what you thought we were doing last night.” He kissed Sherlock's temple. 

“We played Monopoly,” Sherlock said. He paused. “And after that we did have sex.”

“Which is probably why there was monopoly money in the sheets this morning and a silver dog in the pillowcase.”

“Yes,” Sherlock said, uninterested. Of course he hadn't been the one to have the dog piece jammed in his ear for most of the night. He turned to face John. “What do you think of our children?”

“Our never going to exist offspring? You don't want real children, Sherlock.” John had seen Sherlock with real children. He wasn't what anyone would call close to a natural. If John was honest neither was he.

“Of course not but that doesn't stop me wanting them in the abstract. You have to agree, John, if it was possible for the two of us to procreate we would make intelligent, good looking children.”

John wasn’t sure whether to smile at Sherlock displaying sentiment, or just look terribly alarmed by the whole conversation. A conversation he had never actually pictured them having. “You're putting a lot of thought into this.” 

“I need to make sure of all the data for the next time I see Anderson.”

“So if he says something like that again you can say; 'Actually, Anderson, John and I would have genius children who could be models.'?”

Sherlock grimaced. “Our children would be attractive but they would never want to be models. Obviously one might want to follow in your footsteps and become a doctor. One might become a scientist. If we're lucky one might become a consulting pirate.”

“Sherlock, how many hypothetical children do you want?” John asked. Not only did Sherlock want imaginary children with John he apparently wanted a lot of them. 

“Six, John. That increases our chances of having males and females in a roughly equal ratio. You would want both?” Sherlock looked up pleadingly. 

“Yes, but six?”

“It's a manageable number.”

“If you planned out this much have you actually named them?” Knowing the Holmes family's choice of names he wasn’t sure he'd want to hear them. 

“I have thought about surnames,” Sherlock admitted. “Holmes-Watson is alphabetical but I would want a son to carry on my name so perhaps Watson-Holmes. Or we could alternate between the children.” 

“You have put too much thought into this,” John said, out loud. 

Sherlock frowned. “I thought you'd appreciate this. Talking about future children is normal in a relationship, isn't it?”

“Not in an imaginary hypothetical sense,” John said, “but yes.” He sighed. His relationship with Sherlock was never going to be normal but Sherlock was making the attempt for John's sake. That was quite sweet if he thought about it. “All right, Sherlock, I appreciate the effort. Now promise me you'll never actually engage in any experiments that will result in children.”

“John, as a doctor you should not the biological difficulties with making either us capable of carrying a child.”

John let out a sigh of relief. “Good. I just wanted to check.”

“Although if it were possible we would could take turns in carrying the children.” Sherlock looked thoughtful.

John worried. If anyone could get him pregnant as part of a science experiment it would be Sherlock and he would probably try if he thought he had a chance at success. “Sherlock, please, just stop now.”

Sherlock looked vaguely disappointed but turned back to his computer. “All right, John. Do you want to see what Mycroft's and Lestrade's offspring would look like?”

“You did them too?” John really hoped Sherlock wasn't going to mention that next time he saw Greg. He didn't want to see the look on his friend's face. 

“Why not? I'm sure Mycroft has plans for hypothetical children. Although I'm not sure that my nieces and nephews would be as brilliant as our children,” Sherlock said, pulling up a picture of what John presumed was a morphed picture of Mycroft and Lestrade. He tried not to think too deeply about that. “See? They'd have Mycroft's nose.”

“Sherlock, how many people have you done?”

Sherlock shrugged. “Not many, a few. I tried Anderson and Donovan, as they can actually procreate but I doubt their success. Their children would be attractive but can you imagine what a child of Anderson would grow up to be?”

“I have a few ideas,” John said, but he wasn’t going to get into a debate about that with Sherlock. He needed to distract Sherlock and he needed to distract himself from seeing morphed pictures of people he knew which represented their offspring. And the face of his own hypothetical child that looked so like Sherlock it was worrying. 

“Right now I think you should stop focussing on children and maybe we can do what we did last night,” John said, firmly closing the laptop lid. 

“You want to play monopoly John?” Sherlock asked.

John put his hands gently on Sherlock's shoulders. “No, Sherlock. Not monopoly.”

“Not monopoly?” Sherlock finally seemed to notice how close John was. “Oh I see, even though our sexual activity will never result in children you still want to have it regularly?

“If we did have children, Sherlock, I think I'd be the one to tell them about the birds and the bees.”

“Obviously, John. You are a doctor and as their father you would be ideally suited to administer sexual education.”

This was getting them nowhere John decided, and he leaned in and kissed Sherlock, knowing exactly how to fit their lips together and where to tease with his tongue to get the right reaction. Said reaction was immediate and John found himself with a very enthusiastic partner. 

“I have to tell you, John,” Sherlock said in between kisses. “I found the idea of our future hypothetical children arousing.”

John groaned. “Later,” he said. 

“Mmmm, maybe you're right,” Sherlock replied as John kissed his neck. 

Later when they lay happily sated in bed John shifted slightly only to find something small and hard poking him in the back. “Ow!” he said, reaching around to find the offending object was another monopoly piece; the hat this time. “We are never playing monopoly before sex again,” he said.

Sherlock was thoughtful. “What do you think of the name Sherrinford?” he asked.

“No, Sherlock,” John replied. He rolled his naked body on top of Sherlock and went back to distracting him. 

“Hamish?”

“God no. Go to sleep, Sherlock.”

“What about...?”

“Sherlock!”

John was thankful that he and Sherlock would never have children. He much preferred the name James anyway.


End file.
